


Untitled PePsi Fanfic

by giask777



Category: Los Hombres de Paco, Pepsi - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giask777/pseuds/giask777





	1. Chapter 1

The rays of the rising sun had filtered through the room and under the closed lids of her eyes. She fluttered them open and immediately winced at the tension headache that had built in the back of her skull and was now coming in waves behind her orbs, as if trying to make them pop out of her head. 

Joder!

She let out a deep groan as she pulled the covers above her face, shutting herself out from the light…and from the world. Her mouth and throat were dry and her stomach kept growling its protest, but she refused to listen. What was it with this world? The sun kept rising. Her body kept on demanding. But didn’t they know? Didn’t they understand? She was dead. Her life had already left her. So why did they all seem to be insisting on keeping on going? For she certainly did not. 

She tightened her eyes shut and gathered the pillow beside her closer against her body. She could still smell the soft perfume of her hair. If she shut her eyes hard enough maybe she could see her again. She had escaped in dreams. In memories of a life they used to share. She sometimes could picture a life that could have been, and she had made it her reality. 

********

Sara stood in front of the door way. In her arms she held the paper bag filled with groceries that she had collected for her tita. She bit her bottom lip as she felt the tinge of guilt that had been holding to her heart for over a week now. She too had wanted to escape. The emotional spin of that day had been too much on her heart and she had sought refuge in the only place she knew she could always find solace: Lucas’ arms. She had not thought then. She could not. She had not wanted to. Selfless thoughts had not been something she could process at that moment. All she wanted to do was fly away and forget about the world and its cruel reality. And so she had fled. Away in the sun. Wrapped in the arms of her husband. 

For a month she had willed herself to forget. But the nightmares kept calling her back. And one morning reality had finally hit her with full force. As she had watched over Lucas’ peaceful sleep. It was then that she had remembered, had realized who she had left behind. Someone who had been her shelter against many a storm, she had left standing alone against the most ravaging of all: Grief.

Lo siento, tia.

She took a deep breath in. Felt her feet on the ground and gathered all the strength she had in her and was going to offer. She raised her hand and knocked on the door. 

********

She heard the insistent knock on the door of her mind. She squeezed her eyes tighter and was able to shut away the sound…but not the voice. That sweet, familiar voice that was now filled with dread. She knew it. She remembered its first bursts of outcry, its first babbling, its first word: “Tia”…and she could not ignore it. Sara was like the daughter her and Silvia never had……and now never would have….. She had been the witness of everything they once were. Everything that she had wanted for them to forever be. 

She threw the covers off her face and immediately cursed at the blinding light that suddenly stabbed at her eyes like sharp needles. She slowly let herself slip out of the bed and pulled herself against wobbling legs. The spinning of her head reminded her of the way she had mistreated her body during the last few weeks. She found herself falling backward as if the strength of her limbs could no longer resist the pull of the earth. She glanced at the door that seemed so far and unattainable now. 

Idiota!

How was she going to reach it? By crawling like a baby? The hell she would let Sara see her like that! She gathered the remnants of strength she found in her and pulled herself up once again. Slowly and purposely she made her way to the calling sound of her niece, grabbed on the knob and pulled the door open while holding herself against it. 

*******

Paco glanced toward Don Lorenzo’s office. The older man had been on the phone for over an hour now, and he knew exactly who he had been in deep conversation with. As he saw him slowly and reluctantly place the receiver back down, he found his cue to go and meet with him. It had been long enough and he could not stand this silence anymore. He could not bear to see his little sister slowly let herself drift away and drown in despair while watching from the shore. 

Don Lorenzo, perdona…do you have a moment?

Don Lorenzo let himself sit back with a deep sigh. He knew what this visit was about. He too had been tired of lying to everyone, but was still too scared to reveal the truth. What if they were still out there? What if they still wanted to hurt his daughter? He had not been able to protect her then, but he sure would protect her now. Even if that meant lying to his daughter in law. 

Come in. Close the door. 

Paco held his handkerchief against his mouth, pondering at his words before speaking them. He took a deep breath in and stared straight in the old man’s eye, like the toreador would to tame the bull before him. Don Lorenzo’s blazing black eyes had a way of shying any man or woman away…except of course for his own sister who never let herself be derailed from her purpose once she had found it. But this fight, she could not stand for…and so it was his duty, as a grand brother, to take it for her. He straightened himself up and took a deep breath in, pumping up his chest.

Don Lorenzo….

Don Lorenzo squeezed his eyes tighter. An intimidation tactic that had proven itself efficient more than once on the strong-built man.

Paco…

The eyes….stay focused on his eyes….you can do it, Paco stammered himself. He cleared his throat and wiped out at the sheen of sweat that had built on his face.

I want to talk to my sister.

Don Lorenzo inclined himself back and rested his hands on his stomach. 

You can speak to anyone you want, Paco. This is a free country, he replied sarcastically.

Paco squinted. Did this man think this was funny? 

About Silvia, Don Lorenzo. I want to tell her the truth about Silvia. 

Don Lorenzo’s eyes glared menacingly but Paco was not going to let himself be intimidated. 

She has a right to know. 

Do I need to remind you of the gravity of the situation, Inspector Miranda? Three of our men are dead. My daughter almost joined as a fourth. We have no idea where El Gordo is hiding and whether or not he still intends to carry on with his plans. 

I know all that, Comisario. 

Silvia’s life might still be in danger. 

It is Pepa’s life that is right now, Don Lorenzo. She is letting herself die with grief when she has no reason to be. 

I know, Paco. And I am sorry. But right now we cannot take any risk. 

What risk? It is only Pepa. She is her wife, for Christ’s sake!

All the more reason, Paco. El Gordo’s men are probably watching her close. If they see any change in her behavior, it might raise suspicions. 

Paco hung his mouth open. He could not believe his ears. 

Do you mean to tell me that you do not wish to tell Pepa because you fear she might be less credible as a mourning spouse if she knew? Is that what you are trying to say? You are letting my sister die in order for your daughter to live? Is that it?

For the first time in his life, Don Lorenzo could not find the words to reply. In the back of his mind it might have been what he had been thinking, but to hear it sputtered back at him threw him off. What kind of a monster was he? 

Is that it, Comisario?

No, I mean yes…I mean no….

And what does Silvia has to say about all this?

Don Lorenzo’s silence answered Paco’s question loud and clear.

You lied to her, didn’t you? She thinks Pepa is aware of the situation, doesn’t she?

Don Lorenzo fumbled with a pen on his desk. Silvia had kept inquiring about Pepa every time they had spoken. She had insisted many a time on seeing her and had pleaded her father to arrange a meeting. He had tried to reason with her, telling her that it was not safe for either one of them. But she kept on insisting. Silvia always had had a way to get to her father’s heart. She knew the tone of voice and the words that would always make him melt and give up on anything she wanted. She had inherited that from her mother, he knew. Added to his own stubbornness it was bound to be a lethal cocktail to the old man’s strongest resolve…and so he had promised. 

He reclined in his chair with a heavy sigh and began to tap the pen he held in his hand against the table.

Very well, inspector. I will go see her. I will talk to your sister. 

*******

She sat at the café across from Pepa’s apartment. After having heard the many stories of her wife’s infiltration days, she knew exactly how to pass incognito would she wish to. Silvia always had had a thirst for all knowledge, even for skills she never dreamed she could put into practice. But every little detail could make a big difference in her line of work. The dead did indeed talk, but sometimes it was necessary to also understand their language. The psyche of a criminal was just as important as the secrets that were held within his limbs. 

She smiled to herself as she felt invigorated by the power of this brunette she now incarnated. Davina, she thought would be her name. A beautiful Russian who had recently moved to Spain after the disastrous end of her marriage to Igor, a Prince of finance whose only obsession was numbers…when it should have legitimaly been her. She had even taken a thick Russian accent as she had ordered the drink that now stood on her table. 

You Spanish men are all charmers. Like that one…what is his name? Antonio Banderas, yes. I think I am going to have some fun here. She had told the waiter.

The young, lean boy had graced her with the most shining smile and a seductive wink as he had brought her order back with a small piece of paper stuck under it on which he had written his name and phone number. Silvia had almost choked at its sight. Poor kid, she had thought. Truth was, the only tall and lean Spanish lover she really intended to have all the fun with was housed a few feet away from her. 

For weeks she had longed for the comfort of Pepa’s arms. For her eyes and the way they managed to bare her soul. Her voice that with only a whisper would send shivers up and down her spine. She had not really understood why Pepa had not tried to contact her. Despite what her father had explained about her wife being concerned for her safety and respecting his decision to keep her away from San Antonio, something in her just did not sit very well. And then it had suddenly downed on her. She had felt so foolish for not even seeing through this masquerade earlier. She prided herself as an intelligent and intuitive woman, and yet she had let herself be fooled like a five year old. She blamed this on her weakened state and the drugs having fogged her mind for several weeks while she recovered from her gunshot wound. 

Then this morning, as she had hung up with her dad it had finally hit her. 

There was no one and nothing on earth that could keep Pepa away from what she had set her mind to. She was an extremely smart and skilled police officer and was very good at sneaking herself through even the thickest, most secretive and dangerous milieu. She did things her own way. The Miranda way. And not even her father had ever been able to tame this wild and free spirit. That he would now have managed to talk her in staying away from the most precious person in her life was just tonterias. 

A chill ran down her spine. Pepa did not know. The last thing she knew, the last image she must have had was of Silvia lying lifeless in her arms. Dios, she was afraid to even think about the hell her wife had been going through those last few weeks while thinking she had lost the love of her life. 

This was it. She was not going to let this charade go on any longer. The hell with El Gordo and his gang. Pepa was more important than anything in this world. She was more important than life itself. She had sworn to be standing by her side through everything, and she intended to keep that promise. 

She stood up and began to walk resolutely across the street. 

******

Sara took only one glance at the harrowing shape of her aunt’s figure and tears gathered in her eyes. She suddenly felt nauseous and a tight knot built in her throat, preventing her from breathing. Pepa’s usually strong physique now looked so frail that Sara thought even the slightest breeze would make it shatter into pieces. Her eyes were hallow and like carved into her face. She was ghostingly pale and for a moment Sara had to concentrate on the faint movement of Pepa’s stomach to reassure herself that her aunt was actually breathing like any living being and not a walking dead. 

The grocery bag she held went crashing down on the floor and she threw her arms instead around her aunt’s waist, holding her up. She began to cry as she dearly held the lengthy brunette against her. 

Lo siento, tia. Los siento. Lo siento.

Pepa shivered at the contact of a warm and comforting body against her cold and dead one. Something snapped inside of her. She did not think she had any tears left. She had cried for so many days after Silvia’s death. She had not stopped and thought she had used up a lifetime worth of them. And yet here they poured ever so freely…and it strangely was relieving. She was amazed at how her heart started beating fast again, her breath started to catch again in the back of her throat, how tears washed away the dryness of her skin…and of her heart. It felt good to somehow feel again. 

*****

Don Lorenzo had come, as promised. He had parked the car a little down the street and sat inside, hesitating. He knew this was the right thing to do. He knew he owed this to his daughter in law, if not his own daughter. Paco had been right….

por mi santos cojones

…he hated having to even admit that. But yes, Paco had been right and he was wrong. But it was up to him to tell Pepa. At the news, she would probably pull her gun and shoot him in the face, just for letting her and Silvia go through so many weeks without each other. 

Maybe I should unload her gun…

He did not think she would actually pull the trigger but….well just in case….


	2. Chapter #2

Sara took only one glance at the harrowing shape of her aunt’s figure and tears gathered in her eyes. She suddenly felt nauseous and a tight knot built in her throat, preventing her from breathing. Pepa’s usually strong physique now looked so frail that Sara thought even the slightest breeze would make it shatter into pieces. Her eyes were hallow and like carved into her face. She was ghostingly pale and for a moment Sara had to concentrate on the faint movement of Pepa’s stomach to reassure herself that her aunt was actually breathing like any living being and not a walking dead. 

The grocery bag she held went crashing down on the floor and she threw her arms instead around her aunt’s waist, holding her up. She began to cry as she dearly held the lengthy brunette against her.

Lo siento, tia. Los siento. Lo siento.

Pepa shivered at the contact of a warm and comforting body against her cold and dead one. Something snapped inside of her. She did not think she had any tears left. She had cried for so many days after Silvia’s death. She had not stopped and thought she had used up a lifetime worth of them. And yet here they poured ever so freely…and it strangely was relieving. She was amazed at how her heart started beating fast again, her breath started to catch again in the back of her throat, how tears washed away the dryness of her skin…and of her heart. It felt good to somehow feel again. 

*****

Don Lorenzo had come, as promised. He had parked the car a little down the street and sat inside, hesitating. He knew this was the right thing to do. He knew he owed this to his daughter in law, if not his own daughter. Paco had been right….

por mi santos cojones

…he hated having to even admit that. But yes, Paco had been right and he was wrong. But it was up to him to tell Pepa. At the news, she would probably pull her gun and shoot him in the face, just for letting her and Silvia go through so many weeks without each other. 

Maybe I should unload her gun, he thought

He did not think she would actually pull the trigger but….well just in case…

**** 

Pepa let herself sink into the couch while Sara prepared a small meal for her. She had insisted and Pepa had been too weak to even protest, yet while the smell of the cooking came to her nostrils she felt sick. It had been so long since her last decent meal…it was the night before her wedding she thought. They had barely had the time to begin the festivities when life as she knew it had suddenly seized and the earth had crumbled down beneath her feet. She shut her eyes trying to chase away the memory…the smell of blood and gun powder…the shivering of Silvia’s body beneath her hand…and then her sudden stillness…

She did not have time nor had the strength to move before her stomach came crashing into her throat and she began to spit the bitter bile. She found herself kneeling on the floor, heaving and coughing the white liquid…soon followed by a darker one.  
Sara let the pan fall on the floor as she saw her aunt crumble down beside the couch. Her eyes widen with terror as she saw the blood drooling out of Pepa’s mouth. She rushed to her aunt on time to catch her in her arms before she fell limp in them. A chill ran down of Sara’s spine as she reached for her cell and dialed for rescue.

*****

Silvia was stopped in her tracks as the medics van came full speed down the street and screeched to a halt in front of the building. Her breath suddenly left her and she felt ice cold. Her vision blurred for the fraction of a second and she slightly swiveled on her axe. 

She watched the scene that followed as if it were in slow motion. The medics came down hauling a stretcher on which laid a frighteningly bony, pale, and ever so still brunette. Behind them, a short blond followed overtaken by choked sobs. The blond took one glance at the taller, older man standing pale beside the emergency vehicle, and threw herself in his arms calling out

Abuelo! Abuelo she’s dead! Abuelo!

The older man wrapped his arms around the convulsing young blond and kissed the top of her head. 

******

Sara took note of the lengthy dark-haired that stood trembling behind Don Lorenzo. It is only when she removed her shades and revealed her eyes that she unmistakably knew. She would recognize those beautiful chocolate eyes anywhere. Those eyes usually filled with warm and compassion, were now overflowed with a simmering fury beneath a river of tears.

Tia? She said breathless. 

Papa?

Don Lorenzo felt the cold stare on the back of his neck before the words were even spoken. Sara had suddenly grown very still and stiff within his embrace. He slowly turned to face the accusing glare of his daughter. To what he witnessed in her eyes, Don Lorenzo would have rather been faced with the sole one of Pepa’s magnum. Despair, fury, confusion, a heart wrenching sorrow succinctly flashed through Silvia’s face and he knew he was the sole person responsible for putting her through all those emotions at once. 

What have you done?


End file.
